Stolen Days As An Enchanted Gardener Poem by Mark Heathcote

I love a rose yellow as a shining sun,
petals fanning in the gentle breeze full sail
blousy as a mellow moon, a moth benumb,
resting in my palm like some lost Holy Grail.

Cupping silent skies while they lie in ashes
I love yellow roses beside a red brick wall
the colour of which has searing hot splashes
cooling to white foam, as one by one, they fall.

Like armoured knights strewn aside in the battle
each falling petal holds my breath in wonder
such beauty, found is seen as insubstantial
but for me, they're the rewards of plunder-

Stolen days as an enchanted gardener
each a reminder that these days are short
the lease of life, a yellow rose globular
from our melting grasp at times unadorned.